When I was young, my nanny and poppy Judson had a wooden bear on the wall of their farm house. The rule was you had to be tall enough to reach the wooden bear in order to pull the string between his legs. Of course, it was the perfect rule as by the time you were tall enough you weren't quite as enthralled with the idea of yanking on the string to make the bear's arms and legs move. A kid would yank on it so many times it would most likely break. An adult, not so much.
When my nanny passed away my mom asked if I would like anything of her's and I asked for the bear. It hangs in our kitchen because that's where it hung at my nanny and poppy's house. Finnegan is very interested in the bear, but he is only allowed to look at him from our arms and is not allowed to touch him yet.
A few years ago, Genevieve went to Morocco with my mom and brought me back a wooden owl. He is kin of the bear; a brother from another mother, if you will. He is fabulous. He hangs in my dining room because animals as cool as these deserve their own room.
Finnegan also curiously looks at the owl and every once in a while he gets to pull on the hook from underneath the owl, it being much sturdier and a wee bit younger than the bear.
He is delighted when these chances arise. Who wouldn't be?
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